Pally Pals
by Silverr
Summary: Gidwin Goldbraids, dwarf paladin extraordinaire, decides the time is right to see if he and his friend Tarenar Sunstrike can be more than just pals. *** Bromance humor based on Eastern Plaguelands NPCs. Implied off-screen slashy incident.


Disclaimer: Warcraft and World of Warcraft are the intellectual property of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. and are being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect of the copyright holders of Warcraft, World of Warcraft, or their derivative works is intended by this fanfiction.

.

For those who might have missed it (I know I did until recently), Gidwin and Tarenar are part of the Fiona's Caravan quests in Eastern Plaguelands. The two somewhat competitive paladins, who have remained best friends since childhood, are hoping to join the Argent Crusade when the caravan gets to Light's Hope, but they keep delaying the caravan and irritating Fiona by constantly running off in search of heroic things to do. ~ Definitely check out the Caravan quest chains if you're looking for a sweet, funny, cross-faction bromance reminiscent of Tholo and Anren (with a dash of Gimli and Legolas).

.

.

* * *

**Pally Pals  
**

_by silverr, for wanda von dunayev  
_

* * *

_._

.

Gidwin probably would never have done anything if it hadn't been for all the fuss in Ironforge.

A crowd of girls pushed toward him as he landed at the flight point. He heard one of them say, "But we've still got to find a blood elf to scatter rose petals on!"

"I know a – " Gidwin started to say.

The girls flocked around him. "A blood elf mage?"

"Well, no, a pala – "

The flock dashed away to the gryphons. Gidwin shrugged and headed for the Commons.

He had just passed the training dummies when a gnome grabbed his wrist. "You a hunter?"

"No, I'm a pala –"

"Never mind," the gnome said. "Need a draenei for that!"

Puzzled, Gidwin went on.

There was a commotion near the bank: a crowd was shooting off pink and red fireworks, tossing rose petals, and waving weird bracelets in the air.

Gidwin picked up a _Love is in the Air!_ pamphlet and a price list: cologne, perfume, romantic picnic baskets, chocolate, rose petals...

_Let them know how special they are_, the pamphlet said. _Shower them with rose petals._

.

Sometime later, after convincing Fiona that it might be a nice change to stay at a decent inn for once, Gidwin took a bath, oiled his beard, splashed on … He considered the bottles of perfume and cologne he'd bought. Which to use? In the end, he decided that, under the circumstances, it didn't hurt to splash a bit of both on.

And then he settled down to wait for Tarenar.

He'd dozed off by the time the elf barged in, seven-eighths drunk from bragging in the tavern about his day's exploits.

"Nice room," Tarenar said, staggering around as he took off his gauntlets and a pauldron. "Wheresa bed?"

"Have a wash up first," Gidwin urged. "The sheets are fancy, we shouldna muck 'em up!"

"All right!" Tarenar spun around a few times, dropping the other pauldron and his chestplate. "Wheresa wash?"

Gidwin pushed Tarenar in the general direction of the basin. Once some splashing commenced Gidwin turned down the sheets, scattered the rose petals, and nervously lit the candles. By that point his belly was fluttering with a cave's worth of bats, but as Tarenar hadn't run screaming yet ...

He turned to see Tarenar looking at the rosy, candlelit bower, swaying and shaking his head as if his neck were melting.

"Wow," Tarenar said, then pitched forward, landing smack-down on the floor like a sack of apples.

Gidwin, not to be deterred, removed Tarenar's boots and belt.

And then he hesitated. He'd never removed another man's greaves – well, not counting dead enemies, but that hardly counted, that was just the economy of war, to the victor went the bloody sweaty spoils and all that. He'd never stripped the living unless they were bleeding to death, and he could hardly count this as a medical emergency, well, there was some urgency, and he supposed it _did _involve blood, but it was hardly life-threatening and –

"Oh, blast it all," he muttered. As his Gran used to say, in for a clod, in for an acre, so he unbuckled the buckles and stacked the pieces of armor next to the night table, giving an appreciative chuckle as he took away the groin plate. "So _that's_ yer secret, you sly devil? No undies?"

Then he did what any love-smitten dwarf faced with a naked, unconscious blood elf would do: he hoisted Tarenar onto the petal-strewn bed and spooned him for all he was worth.

.

"What is all this?" Tarenar was sitting up, brushing rosepetals off his chest and arms.

"Dunno." Gidwin, blushing, plucked a few from the blood elf's red hair.

Tarenar glanced over at the dwarf. "They're all over you, too," he said, peeling one from Gidwin's shoulder, then throwing back the coverlet and getting out of bed. "What a weird custom."

"Coulda been worse," Gidwin said, drinking in the sights. "Coulda been cabbage leaves."

"I suppose." Tarenar lifted one of his legs and sighed at his sticky inner thighs. "Er, Gid, sorry if I got this on you," he said as he went to the wash-basin. "Must have been the bed: this doesn't happen when we sleep in the wagon."

"Not a problem," Gidwin said, blushing even harder, and wishing he'd been awake for what his trusty Two-Hander had apparently decided to get up to during the night. "Damp that cloth up and bring it here, if ya would." He pulled a pile of blanket into his lap.

"Sure." Tarenar walked over, holding out the cloth. "Though I don't see why you don't just get out of bed and get it yourself, you lazy sod."

"Leg cramp," Gidwin lied. "Bend down, you've something on your ear." As Gidwin cleaned up the melted chocolate he made a mental note that candy on the pillow wasn't such a great idea.

"Why's your face so red?" Tarenar asked, but, before Gidwin could answer, Tarenar noticed the pile of armor stacked next to the bed. "By the Light! What happened here?" he demanded.

The stout candles, which had of course had spent the night slowly turning into low craters of molten wax with wicks, had merrily continued to burn until the craters melted, releasing tiny rivers of molten wax that had run across the small table and dripped down onto a certain blood elf paladin's highly cherished silver-and-gold armor.

"Well that's a mess," Gidwin said.

"Candles are stupid," Tarenar said. "Why not use oil lamps or enchanted crystals like normal inns do?"

"No idea," Gidwin said. "Maybe it's part of the holiday."

"A holiday? Really?" Tarenar sat on the edge of the bed and begin peeling the wax off a leg-plate. "What's it called? How is it celebrated? Is there drinking?"

Gidwin surreptitiously picked a stray rosepetal off his companion's hip. "It's called Valentine," Gidwin said. He thought for a moment, then said, "And it's traditional to kill demons and undead with your best friend, then hoist a dozen tankards."

"Really?" Tarenar sounded like a little kid who'd just been handed a present. "That's lucky! I can't think of anything I'd rather do than go 'round eradicating the Scourge and then go drinking with you, Gid!"

It was, Gidwin thought, far and away the most romantic thing he'd ever heard.

_._

_._

_~ The End~_

_(probably)  
_

_._

_._

Written for the prompt _The candles and scattered rose petals certainly were romantic. They were also a pain to clean up the next day_ in the Bad Sex and Awkward Romance Collection on Ao3.

For those who might not be familiar, part of the Love is In the Air in-game event is tossing a handful of rose petals on certain race/class combinations.

(05) 31 May 2012


End file.
